


Day 6 -Terminal

by Chibifukurou



Category: Death Race (2008)
Genre: Baby aquisition, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:13:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29283564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chibifukurou/pseuds/Chibifukurou
Summary: They escape Terminal Island by train.
Relationships: Jensen Ames/Machine Gun Joe
Kudos: 2
Collections: February Ficlet Challenge 2021: Apocalypse No





	Day 6 -Terminal

They get off Terminal Island on a freight train. The adrenaline of that last race keeps coursing through Jensen’s veins. The noise and shaking of the train car aren’t helping. His hyper vigilance is off the charts.

It makes him want to slam Joe up against the wall of the car and kiss him until all the built up fear and tension leaks out. 

Wouldn’t be the first time. Hate fucking had seemed smarter than fighting in the early days of their partnership.

Once they had gotten a read on each other and things had burned down to the low simmer of rage that burned in all the racers, they’d been able to rough house and shiver at each other without it ending up with someone’s skull caved in. 

How that had gotten then back to the fucking without the hate, Jensen was a hell of a lot less clear on. 

“So where you headin’?” Joe’s voice cut though the darkening spiral of Jensen’s thoughts, “I mean I know it’s to get your baby girl. But where’s that at?”

He shouldn’t say. If Joe gets caught he could tell someone, but hell it’s not like they don’t know where he’s headed. “Some farming town two hours out. Coach is supposed to set up a diversion, give me enough time to head there.”

Joe grabs him by the back of the head and uses that as leverage for a messy kiss that leaves Jensen’s lip split. “Then I better start getting things planned on my end.”

Still out of it between the kiss and his still buzzing nerves, Jensen just nods. He doesn’t know what Joe’s end is, but as long as it isn’t between him and Piper he doesn’tnerves, give a shit. 

“Still can’t convince you Miami is a nice spot?” Joe pulls on his civvies, giving Jensen a good look at his chest and all that tempting skin.

“Mexico is safer.”

“Hotter too, but I guess they still have beaches,” Joe poked him. “Fucking get changed Frank.”

Right. Right. His brain finally gets the message to kick back on. “ He yanks at the prison jumpsuit. Suddenly desperate to get it off. Get clear of that whole mess. 

“They’ll be expecting you to head straight south. You heard of Chestertown? Other side of the bay from Baltimore?”

“No?” Should he have?

“Head that way after you get your girl. I got contacts out there.”

Well fuck. Actual contacts to help make the run to Mexico. That was so much fucking more than he was expecting. He reeled Joe in for another kiss. This one only slightly less violent than the last. Pulling away, Jensen whispered against Joe’s lips, "Thanks."

*

Getting Piper is anticlimactic. Whatever distraction Coach had made must have been something else. The couple keeping her haven’t even set up a watch. He gets in, picks her up. Grateful beyond words when she does her happy gurgle and still calls him Baba.

Then they are out of there and he’s stealing a minivan with a carseat from down the street. 

*

It’s just past dawn when he stops at a the first gas stacar seattion without security cameras that he comes across. Parks against the side of the building and makes sure to back in so the license plate is hidden. 

By this point, an Amber Alert has to have been put out. He collapses, exhausted, over the steering wheel. Piper is still sleeping deeply. The way she only ever sleeps when they are driving. 

Once she picks up on the fact they aren’t moving, she’s going to start kicking up a fuss. 

He must pass out at that point cause he’s jolted awake when someone knocks on his window. He’s up and reaching for a knife before the sound consciously registers. 

It’s Joe, smiling proudly. Behind him is the kind of rundown hatchback minicar that’s all over the roads cause they use as little gas as possible.

Jensen fumbles and gets the doors unlocked. Half falls out and onto Joe. 

“Go on. Get in the backseat. I’ll get the baby out and we’ll strap her in next to you. Throw a blanket over top and nobody will know your back there.” 

Jensen hadn’t realized before, but the trunk and back windows are tinted past what is technically legal. 

He staggers over to the hatchback and folds the front driver’s seat down to get in. It’s tight, but Joe moved the passenger seat far enough forward Jensen can sit. 

Joe hands Piper, car seat and all into the backseat. Between the two of them, they get it latched into the car. 

Joe was right. With the tiny back seat and tinted windows, it’s virtually impossible to tell they are there. Particularly once Jensen gets wrapped up in a dark gray blanket.

He’s warm and the safest he’s been in months. He is practically asleep by the time they are back on the highway. 

Joe must be able to tell. He calls back, “Get some fucking sleep. It’s a long way to Mexico.”

Then he turns on the radio and Jensen falls asleep to the sound of alt rock from the 80s.


End file.
